


Not Pressing Charges

by oldmountainsoul



Category: Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/F, First Dates, Jedi Critical, Useless Lesbians
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-08
Updated: 2015-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-25 11:59:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4959787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldmountainsoul/pseuds/oldmountainsoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An easygoing modern AU take on Revastila, featuring as always, my Useless Lesbian Revan. The Ebon Hawk is a bar, Jolee is the bartender/owner, Canderous and Zaalbar are bouncers, Juhani is a regular patron who believes she owes Revan her life, and Mission just hangs out there for reasons nobody ever questions. Bastila is (eventually) Revan's long-suffering defense attorney, because Revan is an asshole who does stupid, terrible things all too often.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Pressing Charges

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lesaberisa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lesaberisa/gifts).



> This is a no powers AU, so Revan and Bastila are *mostly* normal people. I'm figuring the Jedi to be some sort of wacko cult with government funding and used for creating spies and generals and being pretty skeevy all around. All characters are their original race/species what have you, but there will (likely) be no space travel or similar shenanigans in this story. I'm up in the air on continuing this as a series when I have other stories to finish still, but I am always open to requests and prompts so hmu if you personally would like to see more!

 “So, kid. How’d the trial go with the man whose hand you broke last month?” Jolee drawled from his place at the counter, keeping himself busy polishing shot glasses. 

 “You wouldn’t believe what wearing my dress uniform does for a jury, let me tell you. Though as it turns out I didn’t need it. I was cleared of all charges, as my _very_ cute attorney apparently managed to strike the fear of god into the prosecutor, so he convinced his client to drop the charges on the condition I didn’t turn around and press charges on  _his_  ass for harassment.”  Rys laughed, leaning back in her seat and propping her feet up on the bar. Jolee casually shoved her off his counter as she continued with the story. “I offered her a very fancy dinner out to thank her for her very excellent work, and with a little bit of charming banter and eyelash batting and ‘ _oh but I insist~’s’_ , she accepted.” 

 “Cute that you got a date, vod’ika, but you could have told me that you were cleared before I showed up to testify; I’d already called in sick to my firm,” Canderous groaned from his spot at the door.

 “And they believed you, ori’vod? Canderous Ordo, the healthiest man alive,  _sick_? They must be idiots at your day job, though I’m surprised your pride let you have one–or does the old man not pay you to stand there and laugh while I knock pissheads on their asses?” 

 “Oh no, I only pay the Wookiee–Zaalbar was quite persuasive on that matter. The Mando just showed up one day,” the bartender chimed in, as Zaalbar growled in what they assumed was an approving manner. “I haven’t had the heart to turn him away. He’s like a little lost puppy.” 

 “Watch it, old man,” the Mandalorian growled. “I never said my employers were  _smart_ , if they were, they wouldn’t need to hire me as their security consultant.” 

 “Ori’vod, could your life be any more boring?” Rys teased affectionately. 

  “So what do you do Lytan, besides sit here on your ass all day and scare away good business?” Jolee asked. 

 “Old man, you know your life would be dreadfully boring without me here to keep things lively. Besides, do you  _really_ want the scum of the earth in your fine establishment?” 

 “I don’t know, kid, but unlike certain individuals, they don’t put their kriffing combat boots on my clean counter tops, which is certainly a point in their favor,” he replied pointedly, once again shoving Rys’s legs off the bar. 

 “Fair enough. But I know you all adore me, really. Now, I love you all, but you are all losers and would ruin my hot date, so I will take my leave to go make myself even more gorgeous and presentable. Try not to be too despondent without me.” Rys called as she sauntered off towards the door. 

 “I’m sure we’ll manage. Perhaps Mission’ll try to sell grenades to drunken patrons again,” Canderous rolled his eyes.

 “Hey! I’ve never sold'em to anyone stupid enough to pull the pin out  _in the bar._ " Mission protested.

 _“_ Not in the past couple of months at least,” Zaalbar chuckled. 

 “Hey! Big Z, you’re supposed to be on  _my_ side! C’mon!” 

 “And  _that_ is exactly why I will not be bringing my date here. Later, nerds,” Rys tutted as she left for her car. 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

  Rys was determined to be the perfect gentlewoman when she picked up her date, taking care to hold open every door and pull out the attorney’s chair for her when they were seated. They’d settled on a nondescript Chandrilan restaurant, which fit Rys’s definition of ‘classy’ well enough with its pristine white tablecloths and tie-wearing waitstaff. 

 “So, Miss Bastila Shan, do you make a habit of going on dates with hardened criminals?” Rys teased, leaning forward in her seat. 

 Bastila laughed, “No, no. I actually, ah, I was raised  _quite_ conservatively, so you would be the first. Though you’re hardly a criminal, your record is spotless, and well, all charges were dropped. And I’d definitely agree that your actions were totally justified. So, I take it you don’t spend all your days being the avenging hand of justice against catcallers and misogynists everywhere. What exactly  _do_  you do? There was almost nothing about you in the files I received.” 

 Rys grinned, gesturing at her tailored black suit and tie. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m an international spy. I freelance for the SIS. And I’m  _very_ good at what I do, so all my information is completely classified, I’m afraid.” 

 “But of  _course,_ ” the young attorney replied dryly.  

 “Try me, Miss Shan. I’m sure I’ll hold up even under your  _very_ thorough cross- _examination._ Should I take off my jacket so I don’t wilt under the heat of your gaze? _”_ the older woman teased. 

 “Oh, you’re terrible,” Bastila flushed, shaking her head and pointedly looking anywhere but Rys’s smug face. 

 “Prove it, then. Prove that I’m not a spy, then, Miss Shan.” 

 “If it’ll do something about that awful self-satisfied smirk on your face, then alright. For example,  _if_  you were a spy, I wouldn’t have been called to that police station at all. You would have no files, rather than lacking ones, and there would be no record of you being brought in at all. It wouldn't have ever gone to the courts. And I doubt you would have had to post bail… Besides, if you really  _were_  a spy, wouldn’t you avoid telling me so at all costs? Certainly not on the first date,” she teased.

 “Well, at least I bought you dinner first," Rys winked. "And perhaps there was a mix-up and the officer who did my paperwork wasn’t made aware of my status before you were called. And perhaps I stayed because you are absolutely stunning, and I wanted to know more about the woman with the lovely light in her eyes.” she continued, fluttering her eyelashes. 

 “Do you say that to every woman you meet, or just every  _other_   woman you meet?” 

 “You wound me, Miss Shan.” 

 “You’re a shameless flirt, aren’t you.” 

 “Absolutely. An insufferably, impossibly shameless flirt. Is it working?” Rys conceded gleefully, leaning forward even more in her chair.

 “Mmm, I think not. You’ll have to try another approach, I’m afraid,” she said playfully.

 “Then I will simply have to be completely honest with you.” 

 “That’s always the best policy, I believe,” Bastila agreed. 

 Rys took a deep breath, launching into a veritable monologue, rattling off facts. “Let’s see… I am a hopeless romantic, and I am both too harsh with strangers and too forgiving of those I care about for my own good, I was sent off to a boarding school to be raised by a hyper conservative cult of pseudo-monks who are entirely too full of themselves, I left this order at eighteen to join the military, and I fought in the Mandalorian Wars for the Republic. I was discharged honorably, and now I make my living doing independent freelance work for various government offices when they have need of someone of my skills and training, and when the mood strikes me to lend them my assistance. Otherwise, I spend way too much time with a crew of misfits at a bar owned by a friend, where I am well-known for my tendency to be that ‘avenging hand of justice,’ as you put it. I occasionally fill in teaching kickboxing and self-defense classes at a local gym, and I make the occasional craft jewelry in my spare time. And last of all… I do believe I have the potential to be very enamored of you, Bastila Shan. Now, have I satisfied your curiosity?” 

 “…Well. That’s certainly more than I expected you to share. Tell me, would this ‘cult’ you spoke of happen to be the Jedi Order?” the younger woman asked hesitantly. 

  Realization slowly dawned on Rys's face.“Yes, it would. ...And you mentioned that you were raised conservatively earlier, didn’t you? That you’d never dated any-–their hopelessly constricting rules include an advisement against forming attachments of any kind. You were one of them, too.” 

 “That’s correct.\,” Bastila replied meekly. “I left because they tried to use me. And I was determined that I would never be anything but my own person. Everything else aside, I did receive an excellent education from the Order, and I was able to secretly send an application to a university and was accepted. From there I worked my way up to law school, and here I am. You are, rather were, my first ever client.” 

 “Well, I’d say you’ve done quite well for yourself. Congratulations on a successful first case. To our lives away from the damnable Jedi Order?” Rys asked, raising her glass to toast. 

 “To a life away from the Order,” the younger woman smiled, clinking her glass of Chandrilan wine to hers. 


End file.
